Nothing more ball-dropping

than those flashing red lights

and blaring siren,

a beefy choleric cop

hand on holster

gets in my face,

he wants to know

why I’m walking around

this fancy neighborhood

with a piece of rusted rebar

and other burglary tools.

I explain they’re found objects

for my wife, an artist

and meditation teacher

who uses rust to teach

the Buddhist concept

of impermanence.

He lowers my head as he thrusts me

into the back of his squad car.